Of White Mice and Sakura Trees
by xoxo Juniebug
Summary: Frontier. Your everyday high school romance story, sans "THE BIG DANCE". Takuya/Izumi
1. Prologue: The Princess's New School

**a.n feb 15 09: later chapters are undergoing rewrites. my comp with all the info broke down so i wont update this for a while.  
**

**A/N:** I am here to tell you guys about a little idea that dropped into my mind during one boring day at school. This fic's focus will be on takumi but there will be other couples as well. i won't tell which ones though! So all I can say is enjoy, and R&R! constructive criticism appreciated!

oh and i would like to point out that this story is kind of being told from the perspective of a narrator with a POV. so at times there will be like little interjections made by the narrator that mock/support/etc a character or a situation that a character is in. (if you've ever read the book series Gossip Girl, just think of how Gossip Girl adds her own comments at times) i put it in for humor :D also because sometimes it's fun to make fun of the characters :P

**Disclaimer:** this story is fan-made and in no way do I own any part of digimon. However, all characters that are mentioned in this story and do not appear on the official Digimon Frontier TV show, as well as the idea behind this story, are owned by me.

* * *

**prologue: the princess's new school**

Izumi Orimoto slid out of the taxi easily and daintily stepped onto the curb. A gigantic white-marble staircase loomed enormously in front of her, marking the entrance into North Shibuya Academy, a hard-to-miss landmark in the heart of Tokyo and one of the best private schools in the country. _'Huh,' _she thought absently, '_It looked ten times smaller in the brochure._' The cabby drove away, leaving Izumi to be suffocated in a cloud of CO2.

Izumi was dressed in the North Shibuya Academy uniform: Autumn Collection. Black ballet flats and thin white knee-highs adorned her feet. She was also wearing an internet-link-blue pleated skirt that stopped at her mid-thigh, a white and collared long-sleeve tailored shirt that had big black buttons that went down the middle, with white ruffles surrounding them. The shirt also featured a wide blue ribbon, the same color as her skirt, that was tied around the waist and made into a ribbon in the back, but it was currently covered by the school's signature black wool blazer, which was very ornate, decorated with four gold-colored buttons, gold-outlined cuffs, and a pocket on the left breast which was also outlined in gold.

A silk blue-and-white tie poked out from the v-cut of the NSA blazer. On the breast pocket, the school's icon was embedded into the fabric: the school's initials, NSA, written in gold in an eye-catching, loopy, calligraphy font, inside the outline of a shield, which was outlined in gold and blue. According to the North Shibuya Academy Guidebook, which Izumi had been cram-reading on her ride to the school, the shield represented defense against dangerous or flawed ideas while students were cultured to become highly effective members of society in the save haven that North Shibuya Academy provided. Izumi had also been provided with a tan brown messenger bag that was outlined in some golden material and had the NSA icon stamped on its front pocket.

The only factor of their appearance that students were allowed to customize were how they held their hair, any headgear, and any choice of jewelry that was appropriate, so she had elected to wear a long silver chain around her neck, and a small silver locket was attached to it.

The blonde, an outsider looking in, watched the mass of private school students enjoying their last precious minutes of summer freedom. Boys of all ages swaggered around, greeting old buddies, flirting with reluctant girls, and laughing big, obnoxious laughs. Girls sat down in tight groups on the enormous steps leading up to the main entrance of the school, adjusting make up, gossiping, and eyeing the guys with lustful glints in their mascara-laden eyes.

Izumi took it all in and sighed dejectedly. Everybody was so... divided, and a cliquey school was the very last thing she needed right now. Now that she thought about it, what had she been thinking when she had chosen her mother when she could have gone with her dad back to Italy, her first home? Now she was reaping the consequences of her actions. Izumi felt her mood plummet as her mind wrestled with the negative thoughts. _Tokyo _over _Italy_? Yes, she was definitely crazy.

It's a _catch-22_, alright.

Izumi adjusted her NSA messenger bag and fingered the precious locket, keeping her emerald eyes down as she dashed up the pseudo NY-Metropolitan-Museum steps to the main entrance of North Shibuya Academy. As she flew up the huge steps, she felt the eyes of her new classmates pressing in from all sides. Curious boys and girls alike watched the mysterious new comer with the long silver locket and pale blond hair, taking mental pictures to store in their minds for a later topic of conversation. After all, there's no better way to kick start the new school year than with some healthy gossip about the newest student...

Whether she liked it or not, Izumi Orimoto was the New Girl again.

* * *

**visual?  
(i think that having pictures of people and places in a story really helps to bring it alive and make it more believable.)**

metropolitan museum steps:  
_**www!rainydaytraveler!com/Images/NewYorkImages/KMD07MetMuseumofArt431x!jpg**_  
(change the 3 exclamation marks to a period, and add an underscore (shift + -) in between "Art" and "431")

i was there a week and a half ago :D it's really as magnificent and gorgeous as it sounds in the media, i swear. although i will admit that it was not as amazing as the cherry blossoms in central park.


	2. Of Homeroom Surprises

**A/N:** chapter 1. i know it's really..really soon but i figured why the hell not? i already have 5 chapters done and i'm not gonna hold you guys at a prologue cliffhanger for 3 weeks for a chapter that's already been written. can i hear an "amen!"?

**visual  
sketches of some of the characters (drawn by me)  
**  
as usual, change exclamation points to periods.  
_**img89!imageshack!us/img89/4568/schooluniformsoh9!png  
**_**clockwise from top right:** JP, Saruchi Kanbara (OC), Kouji, Takuya, Teddy Cheong (OC), Izumi  
it was drawn awhile ago (march) before i changed the name from NSHS to NSA, but North Shibuya Academy sounds so much classier than North Shibuya High School and you know it.

_**img175!imageshack!us/img175/8946/little3vb5!jpg**_  
**L - R:** Shinya Kanbara, Tommy Himi, Maya Hitsuji (OC)  
they attend NSA too and they're wearing the middle school uniforms. note the super-gay bow on tommy's shirt.

* * *

**Chapter One: Of Homeroom Surprises  
**

"Mrs. Thakara? Mrs. Thakara, you have a message…"

Izumi was leaning against the wall against the outside of an open class room, nervously tapping her fingers against the white-washed wall behind her. She was waiting impatiently for one of the office secretaries, a pretty 20-something old woman with a strong British accent, who had just hurried into what was to be Izumi's new homeroom to give the teacher an official notice from the headmaster of Izumi's enrollment. The woman had been helpful and had spent fifteen minutes giving Izumi a crash course on the basics of NSA, since Izumi had missed the New Student/Freshman Orientation. NSA was a huge campus which had two buildings for the different grade groups: 7-9 and 10-12. The largest building was the main building and was therefore designated as the 10-12 building. Since each class had an average of only 102.32 students, everyone basically knew everybody else, and there were only three, four, or five homerooms for each grade.

"Class, I have some exciting news to tell you…" a loud voice that commanded respect boomed from within the classroom. The secretary hurried out and gave Izumi a cursory hug, which Izumi gladly returned back, in true Italian fashion. "Thanks a lot for your help!" Izumi said gratefully. The secretary winked at her, and Izumi looked away, mortified. She hated when teachers winked at their students - it made them seem so much creepier. "If you ever have any problems," she whispered, "you know where to find me. Good luck, honey!" the British woman hurried away. Izumi stared after her.

"…so please welcome Orimoto Izumi, the newest addition to Class 11!"

_If you don't got it, fake it!_ Izumi thought to herself as she strutted into the classroom, her head held high, shoulders back, and her hair, long and blond, bouncing along to her strides. She stopped next to the teacher and gave the teacher a small bow from the waist. "_Arigato_ for the welcome, Mrs. Thakara." Izumi flashed a submissive smile and turned to face the class. Izumi was the picture of confidence, but inside, she was so nervous, she couldn't even look in the wide, staring eyes of her new classmates, let alone even think.

'_FRICK. FRICK. FRICK. These kids seem so intimidating. I seriously hope that they're not all stuck up like private school kids on TV and in magazines. I wonder if they think my hair is too straight? Damn, __I should have left it natural this morning._'

On the other hand, the minds of twenty-two students were contemplating Izumi thoughtfully, summing her up based on their first impressions, for that was the way of the students at North Shibuya Academy. _No make-up. Pretty. Nice eyes._ However, unnoticed by everyone, a particular student was gaping at Izumi as if she had a second head. A pair of cobalt blue eyes blinked rapidly at the New Girl before him.

_Am I seeing things? _He thought wonderingly. _Is this...THE Izumi Orimoto?_

Better believe it, bucko!

"Ms. Orimoto, welcome to Homeroom 11-C. Can you introduce yourself to the class?" Mrs. Thakara boomed in Izumi's ear. Izumi smiled even harder and fingered her locket as she rattled off a short, sweet, and to-the-point speech that she had memorized last night while watching _Scrubs_ episodes that her father had sent her from Italy. "Hey, I'm Izumi Orimoto. I'm half Italian, half Japanese, and I've lived in Japan since I was in sixth grade. I'm sixteen years old, turning seventeen in May. Right now I'm living with my mom. I've never been to a private school before, but I'm a fast learner so in two weeks I'll know this school inside and out. Thanks for listening and I hope I enjoy it here!" she smiled again and bowed. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling politely so much in less than 2 hours. The class clapped politely as Izumi inwardly congratulated herself on actually remembering the lines.

"Now Miss Orimoto, where to seat you?" The math teacher boomed again and gazed around at the class. Izumi crossed her fingers, hoping to get seated next to somebody who might hopefully be nice enough to be a friend, or at the very least, a tour guide of the school. "Hmm… oh! That will work. Izumi, please sit down at the empty desk in the third row, behind Mr. Minamoto. Mr. Minamoto, please stand up and show Miss Orimoto her new seat." Time out! Did she just say _Minamoto_?...

Izumi watched in blatant shock as one of the boys of her dreams, now sixteen years old, rose from his seat. A surprised grin complimented his way-too-handsome-to-be-real features. He had bright cobalt blue eyes and long dark blue hair, which was still held in a low ponytail; meanwhile, a good-as-new gray-and-blue bandana was tied around his head. He was decked out in the same NSA blazer and collared shirt as Izumi, except he wore the guys' version of the uniform. Instead of a skirt, he wore black khakis, blue ankle socks, and black-and-white sneakers. At that moment, Izumi had _no idea_ what to think.

Well, how about _holy crap_?

_'Ho-ly…crap.'_ Izumi was floored. What were the odds of meeting Kouji here of all places?! A wave of nostalgia hit Izumi like a speeding truck as she remembered the events from five years ago. Immediately after their adventure in the digital world, Izumi had been forced to leave. Izumi had only been passing through Tokyo, on her way to a vacation in Italy when she had received the fateful message on her cell phone.

And she had left her boys without even saying good bye...

* * *

**Of White Mice and Sakura Trees**


	3. Runaway Love

**may 3 08 A/N: **all i want to do right now is scream! but i digress. thank you for the reviews, they mean a lot to me. they let me know that my story is appreciated by someone other than me! :D

enjoy!

* * *

**2: runaway love  
**

_It was a beautiful and warm evening in June with the sun, partly obscured by the horizon, shining brightly and no clouds in sight. Streaks of yellow, red, and orange hues crisscrossed the sky as if some great artist had taken a huge fire-colored paintbrush and carelessly brushed the sky with it. Meanwhile, twelve-year-old Izumi was sitting sullenly on a wooden bench in a garden area outside of Matsuzawa Hospital in Tokyo, Japan. She felt annoyed at the clear, awe-inspiring weather for so drastically conflicting with her dark, saddened mood._

_'This is it,' she thought sadly. She bowed her head and a part of her hair fell in front of her face, hiding it from the world. 'It's all over...' Their digital adventure had come to an end, yet she knew that she would be the only one of the group to truly see it as an ending. She had a secret which she had never told the boys. Actually, she had a lot of things which she had kept from her best friends, including a particularly amorous one that involved everybody's favorite brunette - but this one was doubly important. The one that she knew would ruin her life forever, while her five greatest friends wouldn't care, for they would still have each other. She flipped open her cell phone, which had reformed from a D-Tector a mere five or ten minutes ago, and checked the time. 6:23 PM. According to real-life time, it had only been 23 minutes ago when she boarded the trailmon bound for the digital world, but to Izumi it felt like she had grown at least a year older._

_Wow, talk about a growth spurt._

_6:24. She had to leave, and soon..._

_Suddenly, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps tapping on the concrete ground. She didn't look up as 11-year-old Takuya Kanbara - AKA, everybody's favorite brunette - scooted along the bench until he was close to her and laid his head on her shoulder playfully. Izumi smiled involuntarily behind her wall of blonde hair, but she gently pushed Takuya away._

_"Hey, I thought we were friends." Takuya said with fake hurt in his voice. He pouted. Izumi laughed delicately, sending a warm and happy feeling through Takuya, but she didn't respond. "I was just kidding," Takuya added after a long awkward pause. "Sorry."_

_"I know. No worries," Izumi sighed. Her back hunched further and more hair fell in front of her face. She made no effort to push them back._

_"You look upset. What's wrong?" Takuya asked concernedly. "Don't try to pretend you're not upset. I'm not stupid," he added, staring worriedly at her pale blond hair. He was suddenly slapped with the urge to reach out and touch it. He lifted his hand absent-mindedly. It was midway through the air when Izumi suddenly shook her head and began to stand up. Takuya retracted his hand, feeling strangely disappointed._

_"Takuya, I have to go." she said sadly, yet still not looking at Takuya._

_"Hey! You're not getting away that easy," Takuya said, grabbing her wrist and staring at her, or rather, the back of her head, purple beanie included, with blazing eyes. "Tell me what's wrong." he commanded forcefully, with the same air of self-confidence and Takuya-ness that had led the group so effectively in the Digital World._

The air was silent for a few moments, and the two were still: Izumi standing with her head down and her back to Takuya, who was seated and had his hand wrapped tightly around Izumi's wrist. He was tense, ready to get up incase Izumi, who had beaten him in running races many times, decided to make a break for it. Behind them, colorful flora swayed like hula dancers in the cool breeze that swept through the garden while the large brick hospital loomed large and domineering in the background.

_After several long, silent moments, Izumi sighed defeatedly and slowly turned to face Takuya for the first time. Angry, tear-filled emerald eyes met the milk-chocolate brown ones. Fueled by anger and sadness, she yanked her wrist away from Takuya forcefully, who simply stared at her in dumb-faced surprise._

_"I said, _I have to go_, okay!? And before you ask, I'll probably never see you or anyone else again, that's what's wrong! Now I really, really have to **GO**!" Izumi screamed at the dumbfounded Takuya. Without another word, she turned around and ran out of the garden, into the city, and out of Takuya's life._

_Takuya stared hard at the ground in emotionless silence. He bit his lip and willed himself not to cry. Suddenly he felt a timid tugging on his shirt sleeve, but he didn't look up. He hadn't even heard anybody coming.  
_

_"Takuya-niisan," Tomoki Himi, known to the group simply as Tommy, tugged harder on Takuya's shirt. He called Takuya "niisan", Japanese for older brother, because throughout the digital world adventure, Takuya had been a better brother to him than his real brother, Yutaka Himi, had ever been. "Takuya-niisan, where's Izumi?"_

_"She had to go." Takuya whispered._

_"Well, you have her number, right? So you can just call her when we get home! Anyway, come on! I have to take you back to the hospital lobby so you can meet Kouji and Kouichi's mom! Wait till you see how much they all look alike! It's the coolest thing ever!" Tommy said excitedly. However, Tommy's words sounded like nothing but annoying prating to Takuya while his heart sunk painfully in his chest as a chilling realization came to fruition in his head. Overcome by his worry for Izumi, he had forgotten the sole reason he had come looking for Izumi in the first place. '_Beans!_' he thought angrily. He had forgotten to ask for her cell phone number._

_Tsk, tsk. Takuya Kanbara, what _will_ we do with you__?_

* * *

**Of White Mice and Sakura Trees**


	4. Some Trouble's Gonna Follow You

**A/N 10 may 08:** today i downloaded the entire first half of frontier AND i finished most of my english homework. snaps for me!

this chapter came out much longer than intended. oh well :x

& sorry for the blatant lack of takumi moments but the reason why should be kinda obvious. next chapter will be much much better.  
thanks for the reviews! and enjoy!

* * *

**3: some trouble's gonna follow you  
**

_Ding-dong! Ding-dong!_

Five tan fingers quickly shoved themselves into a shallow pocket and groped around. Once they found their target, they wrapped around a shiny silver-colored rectangular object, pulled it out, and flipped it open. Swift, dexterous thumbs quickly pressed a few buttons and then paused. Chocolate-colored eyes darted across the blue screen while a thumb lazily tapped against the side of the rectangular object. A right eyebrow cocked in interest as its owner processed the information typed in front of him.

"Was it…_the_ text?" A female's voice asked with lilt of coy mysteriousness as Columbian-blue eyes glanced questioningly at the brunette.

"Of course," Takuya Kanbara responded with an aloof grin. He flipped shut his silver Motorola Razr, which closed with a loud _snap,_ and re-pocketed it.

The two teenagers exchanged knowing looks with their eyebrows raised. Takuya had just received the word that their tiny 102-now-103 person class had just gained their first new student since Dylan Cassidy Yorke, a student-athlete infamous for her attitude, in eighth grade. So naturally, hands retrieved cell phones and swift thumbs flew like mini-whirlwinds across number pads the instant that this years' new girl was sighted. In a mere ten minutes, most people in the eleventh grade class knew.

"Wow, it took a while for you to get the text," the Columbian-blue eyed girl mentioned casually. Takuya stuck out his tongue at his sister and Saruchi stuck her tongue out right back at him. Then they laughed at their immaturity.

The first period bell rang.

* * *

Izumi shook her head and refortified the wall in her head that protected her from nostalgia, the solid concrete wall that had kept her reasonably sane all these years. Her memory of the Digital World was now hazy at best, since years of loneliness and family stress had forced her to remove the few memories that still brought her any happiness, since there's nothing quite like memories of happy times that makes a horrible situation seem even more horrible. Besides, they were just memories. Getting stuck in the past was simply not healthy.

At Mrs. Thakara's order, Kouji stood and bowed serenely for Izumi. "Welcome to North Shibuya Academy, Ms. Orimoto." he sat back down with an amused look on his face.

"You may sit down now, Ms. Orimoto. The morning announcements are about to start," Mrs. Thakara gave Izumi a gentle push.

Izumi walked slowly to her new seat. She could feel stares boring into her from all directions as she walked to her seat, but nobody made any visible move that they were watching her; there was no tiniest turn of the head nor smallest adjustment of the body. The desks in the classroom were the type that had a small, pan-shaped slab of wood connected to a blue chair by metal, and underneath the chair was a small basket for books. In addition to the desks occupied by the students in the front of the classroom, two rows of empty desks were lined up, six to a row, behind Izumi's new seat. The immaculate desks shined and sparkled as if they had been made yesterday. Suddenly, the homeroom announcements blared noisily from the TV, but the students ignored the TV and conversed with each other instead. Izumi heard the chatter and wondered if they were talking about her, and if they were, were they good things or bad things...? Then again, she didn't really care either way. She shivered inwardly. As usual, this new school stuff was eating away at her security like a computer virus.

She reached her desk and sat down, but Kouji was all over her like a fat kid all over cake before her butt touched the seat. Izumi suddenly found herself in a loving, yet lung-restricting hug with Kouji Minamoto and her vision was obscured by dark blue strands of hair. "Kouji..you're..squishing..me!" Izumi choked out with blatant surprise and happiness in her voice. At that, a pink-faced Kouji abruptly pulled away from her, clearing his throat and looking awkward.

"Jesus, Kouji. I never even knew that you knew how to hug!" she exclaimed animatedly, smiling at her old friend. Izumi surprised herself at how much she really had missed him. In the Digital World, she had always seen Kouji as her omnipresent "rock". Even though she could count the number of meaningful, one-on-one conversations she had had with him on one of hair freshly-manicured fingers, she had always seen Kouji as the guy you could depend on when things went totally crazy. "God, I missed you!"

In response, the dark-haired teen raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. His eyes quickly looked away involuntarily as though blinded by the bright sunshine that Izumi's excited grin radiated so effortlessly. He was instantly reminded of Takuya. Finally, he said in a nonchalant tone of voice, "Well, it _has_ been five years. But I digress. Why are you back in Tokyo?"

Izumi realized that this was as close to an "I missed you so freaking much!" that she would get from him. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Well," she began, "I've been having some family problems for a while now. My parents just split up." Izumi fidgeted and bit her lip. She had never talked about this topic before for fear that nobody would understand, but then again, Kouji had dealt with a lot of family issues of his own. "Even though my dad is Japanese, he wanted to go back to Italy. But my mom had always wanted to live in Tokyo so she wanted to move here instead. I was allowed to choose between them. I should've chosen Italy, but I really didn't want to leave my mom alone. Anyway, I'm here until I graduate." As she spoke, Izumi felt her eyes welling up, but she shook her head - the last thing she needed was for her to cry in front of Kouji at school.

Kouji noticed and recognized the motion and instantly felt sorry for her. He usually disliked having to sit and listen to people's problems. '_Shut up, deal with it, and get over it.'_ was his motto, but he didn't want to hurt Izumi's feelings by simply getting up and walking away - like he would've done if it were...say, Junpei. Besides, whether he chose to admit it or not, he had missed the fierce warrior of wind. For the most part, she understood him.

"Well, at least we're here to help you out...and...er...cheer you up." He said gruffly.

Izumi's ears pricked at the mention of "we" and she shot Kouji a look, a faint flame of curiosity sparking just underneath her emerald eyes. "Who's 'we'?"

Kouji blinked three times disconcertedly. _What is she - hasn't she talked to Tak-? Oh. _

_Ohh._

And an epiphany suddenly exploded into fruition in his head: if he, _of all people_, hadn't known of Izumi's return, nobody else had. Surprises weren't really his style, but was way too good of an opportunity to pass up. There was no way in hell that he was going to tell Izumi who he was talking about! His mouth curved into an impish grin, and his lack of a verbal response made Izumi became mildly annoyed. Of course, just like she had had no idea that Kouji attended North Shibuya Academy - there were several high schools in Tokyo, after all - she had forgotten that certain other people might be attending as well.

"What is it? Spit it out, I can handle it!" Izumi said as she squinted at Kouji. Her challenging eyes said, _I dare you to not tell me. I dare you to._

Suddenly, the the bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom and the beginning of the six-minute transition period for students to go to their first class of the day. Students around the two were packing their things and leaving the room in twos and threes, a few of them sending curious glances at Kouji and Izumi before leaving. Kouji suddenly stood up and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.

"I guess you'll have to wait and see just what I mean! All the eleventh graders have lunch during the same lunch period. Look for me!" Without another word, he practically ran out of the door; his laugh reverberated in the room and rang in Izumi's ears. Unfortunately, in his haste to keep "everybody" a secret, the thought that Izumi _might just happen_ to need some help getting to her class totally escaped his mind.

"Wait!" Izumi called after him, but he was long gone and there was no one else in the classroom except Mrs. Thakara, who was concentrating on writing a complicated Calculus problem on the chalkboard, and a tall black girl who was adjusting the straps on her mary-janes.

Uhh...so much for your "rock", Izumi.

"Ugh..._merda_!" Izumi cursed angrily in Italian. Now furious at Kouji's abrupt departure, uncommon thoughtlessness, and neglect to tell her what had made him grin as wide as he had, Izumi tugged her schedule forcefully from the front pocket of her bag. Most of her courses were Advanced Placement.

"First period..English Language Part 2 with Ms. Kamiya, room 207. Now where would that be?" she muttered to herself, her fingers groping around her bag impatiently for a map of the school.

"You need help." A voice said. It was a statement, not a question. The black girl that had been fixing her shoes was now standing up straight with her eyebrows raised and her hands on her skinny hips. She was a hair taller than Kouji - who had grown to be pretty tall himself - and big hazel eyes calmly watched Izumi. She was skinny, but toned, and she had a broad, heart-shaped face. She had a sleek perm that curled into a floppy bob just beneath shoulder-level and long, wispy bangs that completely obscured her forehead.

"I actually thought Minamoto would be helping you, 'cause you two look like you're good friends, but I guess I was wrong. Psh!" she scoffed scornfully. "Guys. They're all the same."

Izumi narrowed her eyes and pouted disagreeably - if she dared to mess with her friend, then she was daring to mess with _her_ - but Izumi had to admit that the girl had a point. She exhaled softly, letting her brief displeaure with the girl pass away with her outward breath.

"Okay, no comment. What's your name, anyway?"

The girl gave a short laugh that sounded a lot like a poodle bark. "The name is Dylan Cassidy Yorke. DC for short. If you ever call me Dylan or Cassidy, I swear I will kill you. Buuut...Yorke is okay in small doses. Anyway, we should go now, _New Girl_, or we're going to be late. Unless you _want_ to spend ten minutes fumbling with that thing." she pointed to the crumpled map in Izumi's hands with amusement in her eyes, then swaggered out of the room.

Izumi's first instinct was to go and slap her - "_New Girl_"? What kind of cruel nickname was that? Then again, she was new and totally did not want or need to be late to her first class of her first day. She sighed resignedly and figured she would just lie low some more more before going out of her way to start trouble with her more astute classmates who had probably been attending the Academy since the days they still watched _SpongeBob SquarePants_. NSA was that type of school. She exited the classroom and, without looking at her, walked past DC, who was sitting on her knees outside of the classroom texting. Izumi was a yard away from DC when she stopped, turned on her heel, and glared at her straight in the eyes.

"All right, I'll come with you DC, but get one thing straight. Don't ever call me '_New Girl_'!"

"I'm the one doing you a favor here, remember? You could find your own way for all I care..." She looked up at Izumi. "..._New Girl_." At that, DC resumed her texting and didn't send another glance Izumi's way.

Izumi's brain froze as she experienced a swift but brutal deja vu from the school that she attended in fifth and sixth grade in Kyoto. It passed as quickly as it had come, but Izumi still felt the effects of it: her heart beat too fast, sweat flooded her armpit, and hot tears burned her eyelids. She was too upset to stand up for herself properly, so she mustered as much pride as she could and stormed down the narrow hallway, her messenger bag swinging wildly behind her. She disappeared into the throng of students.

As DC watched Izumi stomp farther and farther away, she couldn't help feeling the tiniest bit guilty. After all, she had been a new student, too, only three years ago. '_But I went through the same thing and I made it out okay._' The black girl thought fiercely to justify herself and her actions. '_After all, I'm probably going to be tame compared to what she's going to experience over the next couple of weeks...or months._' She got up, adjusted her skirt, and breathed a sigh of relief as she felt her conscience go to rest; however, after a few moments, she realized that she couldn't really ignore the sinking feeling in her heart.

* * *

**Merda**: im thinking of a four letter bad word for the "number 2". (if you said "crap", you're wrong.)

**Disclaimer: **this story is fan-made and in no way do I own any part of digimon, which belongs to bandai / toei. However, all characters that are mentioned in this story and do not appear on the official Digimon Frontier TV show, as well as the idea behind this story, are owned by me.

**Of White Mice and Sakura Trees**


	5. Of Unorthodox Welcomes

**a/n 21 june 2008: **hay hay hay! Thanks for the reviews. mucho appreciated. School - and stupid finals - is finally over so I can spend more time on my personal projects, like this story! anyway, from this ch on, takumi will be abound. i'm excited! **IMPORTANT NOTE:** By the way, I realized a mistake in my planning of the mechanics of North Shibuya Academy. NSA has now been changed from a K-12 school to a 7-12 school, because if it were a K-12 school, everybody (except Izumi, of course, and perhaps Tommy) would have known each other in the Digital World. But as we all know, they didn't. (_For those who dont remember, during the show JP was in 7th grade, Takuya/Kouji/Izumi/Kouichi were in 6th grade, and Tommy was in 3rd grade)_ So yeah..as a result I went back and changed a couple of things that the characters said and things I wrote. The changes are only minor tho :) Sorry about that!

_shameless plug:_  
A silenced girl, secret notes, an unknown deadline, and a dangerous "it" guy who is more than meets the eye. _A Teenage Love Affair_, a Takumi mystery story (also by me), is out! Go read and review please.

read. **review.** (SERIOUSLY! anything counts, i know people are reading this! :()  
peace.

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**4: of unorthodox welcomes  
**

The NSA Cafeteria was a medium-sized commons area that had been decorated to look like a scene out of a tropical jungle-slash-ecosystem. The walls had forest green carpets on them, and vines and flowers of all sizes and colors crawled up and down and across the wall, twisting and sinuating around numerous wall paintings that looked like genuine and expensive. Izumi could have sworn that she recognized a Picasso.At one end of the commons, three floor-to-ceiling windows stretched from the high green ceiling to the beige-and-white tiled floor, illuminating the room with hazy natural sunlight. At the other end of the commons was the food-service area, built with curved glass panelings that one might see in an ice cream shop to cover the food and a checkout station. The sweet-smelling air was warm, slightly humid, and smelled like apple cinnamon. The lunch tables consisted of ten dark-brown wooden benches, to blend in with the forest-like surroundings. Each table had a different colored flower on it. Izumi felt like she was about to have lunch in a rainforest.

_This school is so elaborate_... Izumi thought, gripping her brown-bagged lunch with one hand and her long-chained silver locket with the other as her eyes darted nervously around the half-full cafeteria searching for Kouji. She hoped he didn't expect her to stand here waiting for him and looking pathetic, as if she had no friends or something.

Sorry to burst your bubble Z, but in this school, you don't have any friends. Yet…

"Patience is a virtue I do not possess," she muttered under her breath. Feeling desperate, Izumi resolved that if Kouji didn't haul his ass over here in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to walk up to that one table with the cute orange-headed boy with freckles and ask him if she could sit down with him and his friends. Suddenly, Izumi felt a finger tap her shoulder.Finally, Kouji was here!...

Izumi turned, fully expecting to find an apologetic pair of cobalt blue eyes, but instead, she was suddenly looking into eyes that were a much lighter and brighter shade of blue. Instead of Kouji, she was looking at a girl with pure white hair and Columbian-blue eyes. The girl smiled at her with a smile that was one part bashful and two parts mischevious.

"Hey, I'm Saruchi, Vice President of the Junior Class," the girl introduced herself in a serious tone of voice, but it had a friendly undertone.

"Hi! Nice to meet you." The two girls shook hands, and Izumi winced a little at the unexpected firmness of Saruchi's handshake. Then they stepped back and Izumi had a chance to really look at the girl. She had thin and stylish side-swept bangs that steeply slanted to her right – Izumi's left. They fell past her right eyebrow, but they were not long enough to obstruct her vision. The rest of her hair fell to her shoulders in an almost-there bob, and a handful of hair on the upper left side of her head were tied up tightly in a golden hairband that matched the golden NSA insignia on her blazer. She was all-around skinny in a non-anorexia way.

Izumi smiled at Saruchi and opened her mouth to introduce herself, however the white-haired girl waved her hand dismissively as if shooing a fly. "I already know your name is Izumi Orimoto. The entire class is talking about you."

Izumi smiled hesitantly, unsure about whether this was good news or not. "Er…okay," was all she came up with. If people had been talking about her, it sure didn't feel like it. Aside from Kouji, Saruchi was the first person who had come up to her all day (not counting the socially-inept nerdy boy in her math class who had asked her "if she was butter", and if she was, then "she was on a roll" and then had cracked up at his lame attempt at flirting, leaving Izumi mortified and deciding to never talk to that boy ever again). Instead of chatting among themselves about her, why couldn't they simply come to _her_? Did she look intimidating? Was she too shy? Did she have BO? Izumi squeezed her arms against her sides and made a mental note to check herself before lunch was over.

"So, why don't you come sit at my table?" Saruchi asked and vaguely gestured toward the back of the café. "My friends are so excited to meet you, they're practically wetting their pants."

"OfcourseI'llsitwithyou!" Izumi spoke so fast that her words slurred together, then she blushed, and repeated, "I mean, I don't mind sitting with you," in a slower, clearer, and hopefully less eager voice. Saruchi raised an eyebrow and smiled, then turned around and began leading Izumi towards her table. Izumi followed her. _I know I should be worried about ditching Kouji, but he never showed up. This serves him right, leaving me with that mean-girl DC Yorke! And for not coming to lunch of course. But then again, he can get so detached sometimes. So he might not even care._

But that's why everyone loves him.

Saruchi's bench was in the back of the room. One side of it was backed up against one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Even though it was in the back, it was undeniably the prettiest table in the entire café; Izumi noticed right off the bat that this table was different, more special than the others. It was raised a little higher than the others, the benches were crafted out of wooden oak that was noticeably darker, and a beam of yellow light from the window poured onto the table as if the light had came from heaven itself. A bonsai tree with pink and white blossoms was the center table piece. Most importantly, the bench was half the size of the other benches in the cafeteria and it seemed like it would seat only about eight people.

Meanwhile, several abandoned NSA messenger bags were scattered haphazardly on the floor, on the seats, and on the table itself – another distinguishing factor from the other tables. Saruchi took one glance at the untidiness and sighed exasperatedly.

"They've gone to buy their lunch. They'll be back soon." Saruchi expostulated as the two girls scooted onto the hard bench, their backs facing the rest of the café. Izumi nodded and opened her brown bagged lunch that her mother had lovingly prepared the night before. The sweet aroma of good home-cooked food drifted out of the bag lunch. "Eat good food and get good grades! Make your mother happy!" Mrs. Orimoto (now called Ms. Sardinia post-divorce, unlike Izumi who had opted to keep the surname she was born with) had ordered as she sliced up the ham and tomatoes for Izumi's sub.

"This table is really pretty," Izumi said in hopes of killing the silence.

"Thanks! It's actually really hard to land this table. Everybody wants to sit here. But a friend reserved it by putting a piece of paper saying 'RESERVED' on it on the table when we were only freshmen. Everybody in our class likes him so everybody listened to him, so it's been ours ever since…and then there's the fact that I'm VP, so everybody listens to me, usually. One day, I'll tell you the story of how my friend did it back when we were freshmen. It's hilarious."

"It sounds like it was an adventure. I can't wait to hear it." She smiled. Saruchi's friends sounded like a fun group. "By the way, what are your friends like? The ones that sit here?"

"How about you meet them when they get there? Words wouldn't really…er…do them justice…let's just say that I think they would want to show you what they are like."

Izumi was confused at Saruchi's mysteriousness. She hoped beyond hope that she hadn't just acquiesced to sit at a lunch table of, like, prep-school druggies. Izumi began to unpack her lunch, her eyes lighting up as she pulled out a sub, a can of coke, grapes, baby carrots, an apple, and those mini sandwiches with the orange crackers and peanut butter. _God, I love food,_ Izumi thought happily.

Meanwhile, Saruchi couldn't keep still. She was fiddling her thumbs, tapping her feet loudly, and tugging on her bangs. Izumi was alarmed by her behavior.

"Saruchi, are you okay?" Izumi asked. "Oh my god, you're sweating buckets!" In response, Saruchi chuckle and shot a quick glance over her shoulder.

"I'm perfectly fine!" Saruchi trilled brightly and unconvincingly.

"Are you sure? You look kind of clammy."

"I'm _fine._"

Izumi was still skeptical, but she shrugged it off. If she didn't want to tell her, then she would let her be. Besides, a meatball sub was calling her name. She lifted the sandwich to her parted lips.

Unfortunately, it never got there.

Suddenly, Izumi's vision went dark as two hands covered her eyes. "What the hell!?" Izumi screeched.

Izumi was so taken aback by the sudden darkness that she dropped her messy sub. It landed with a thud on the table. Globs of the chilled tomato sauce splashed on her face.

"Get off of me!" Izumi clawed on the two hands that were covering her face like a cat claws its scratching post. Somebody behind her yelped and released a long string of curses.

Ah, the benefits of healthy and _long_ manicured nails.

In an instant, her vision was restored. She looked up and turned around to ask what the hell Saruchi had thought she was doing. The first thing she saw were eyes the color of warm umber. Those eyes looked familiar. Then she looked at the face…spiky brown hair...muscular build…wide and unabashed grin…_JP?!_

Izumi's jaw dropped open as she leaned away from Junpei "JP" Shibayama in surprise and caught sight of the four other handsomely tall boys: Kouji Minamoto, Kouichi Kimura, and Tomoki "Tommy" Himi were staring down at the dazed blonde, grinning wickedly. The fourth boy, Takuya Kanbara, was rubbing his scratched up hands and grimacing, however, when his eyes darted to Izumi and they made eye contact, Izumi could practically hear him saying, "Don't worry about it. No bad feelings." Meanwhile, Saruchi stood to the side, at the head of the table, air-clapping excitedly. She was next to a stunningly gorgeous girl with long black hair. She looked like she was about to kill somebody. Izumi put her hand up to her heart as she was enveloped in a welcoming group hug.

"Welcome back, Izumi!" the combined voices of Takuya, Kouichi, JP, and Tommy cheered all around her. Meanwhile, in between the tangle of arms, Izumi saw Kouji standing with his arms folded, but there was a satisfied smile on his face. _Of course. This is why he left without me this morning. And this is why was late for lunch._

"You gu-uys!" She choked out happily, her eyes bright with joyful tears.

"Aww, don't start crying, or Tommy's going to start crying!" JP whimpered loudly while wiping his own teary eyes with a large hand.

"Hey, I don't cry anymore!" Thirteen-year-old Tommy, who was now in 8th grade, protested. Kouichi laughed.

A large lump formed in Izumi's throat. Her friends…she was back with her friends. She felt like crying. So she did, and she did it hard. She could feel her tears mixing with the thick tomato sauce. She felt the messy solution slide down her cheeks and onto someone's white NSA shirt.

"I-I'm sorry guys... I just... it's just... I don't know w-what to – to say," Izumi sobbed.

"You don't have to say anything," Takuya, who was grinning, whispered into her ear, "You're here now so that's all that matters..."

* * *

**Of White Mice and Sakura Trees**


	6. Party Princess

**a/n apr 27 2011: **Hello all, it's been a while, yeah? Here's the next chapter.

* * *

The next day, Izumi found herself realizing that her time here wasn't SO bad. She had reunited with old friends and plus the new school was bigger and better than her old school. Perhaps it would be better if she stayed here…for a while, just to see how she liked it.

Izumi wore her bunny slippers and began to get out of bed. "What do I have to do today?" she asked herself. "Oh, right. Kouji invited me over." She wore her slippers and she walked out of her room.

"Mama? Mama, are you home?" Izumi called out. She didn't hear anything, but she thought she'd go to her mother's room and check there was absolutely nobody there. She opened her mom's room. The smell of Chanel number 8 and freesia wafted into Izumi's nose. The bed was freshly made but there was no one inside of it. "Huh," she said. She shut the door, went back to her room, and got dressed. She wore a purple miniskirt, a black t-shirt, and a leather vest with a hood. For shoes, she wore her Ugg boots, imported from Sydney, Australia. She grabbed a white purse and she was ready to go.

Izumi walked out of her house and locked the door behind her. She decided to take the bus to Kouji's house. Twenty minutes later, Izumi arrived at a gated white wood paneled house located around 20 minutes from the heart of Tokyo. Kouji's car, a black 2012 Honda Fit (it looked like a Honda fit anyway, Izumi guessed) was parked in the driveway.

"That means he's home," Izumi muttered to herself. Izumi walked to the home and rang the doorbell. Kouji's voice spoke from the intercom beside the white stucco door.

"Hello, who's this?" Kouji's voice sounded from the intercom.

"It's Izumi," said Izumi.

"Come in. The door's open." responded Kouji.

Izumi opened the door. The smell of flowers immediately wafted into her nose and she heard the sound of a dog barking. A dog bounded into Izumi's sight. Izumi laughed.

"Good dog," Izumi said.

"Hey Izumi," said Kouji.

"Hey," responded Izumi. Izumi flipped her hair behind her shoulder, and bent down to pet the dog which was now looking her Uggs voraciously. '_Ew, gross, these are expensive shoes,_' she thought. "What's your dog's name?"

"It's Bruno," said Kouji. He put his hand on her shoulder. Izumi looked up. "Want to go upstairs? There's some people upstairs…and I got pizza."

'_Oh my god, pizza!_'thought Izumi. She totally forgot about the dog and his wet slobber. "Sure!" She followed Kouji upstairs to the rec room. The rec room was the size of a classroom. There was a pinball machine, 3 dark red plush couches, a computer, and a bookcase featuring an impressive array of video games and consoles including a Wii and a Nintendo Gamecube.

Sitting in the red couches were Kouichi, Takuya, and Saruchi, grinning at Izumi like she had just told an amusing joke. Takuya and Kouichi were wearing the school uniform sans blazer. Saruchi was wearing a bright blue mini-dress with silver strap on heels.

'_Hey cutie,_' thought Takuya. "Why hello there, Izu-chan," said Takuya.

"H-hey," Izumi said nervously. Izumi thought Takuya looked particularly handsome in his Academy uniform. "What's up?"

"Um. Nothing really," said Takuya.

"Where's the pizza?" Izumi asked eagerly.

"Right here," said Kouichi. "By the way, hi."

"Hi," said Saruchi. She waved.

"Hi!" Izumi sat down on the empty seat, next to Saruchi, and took a slice of pizza.

"So _why_ was six afraid of seven?" asked Takuya.

"Because seven was the name of a monster which was going to eat six's soul," responded Saruchi.

"Eat six's soul? Oh my," said Izumi.

"Souls are tasty. I would know. I've eaten one." Kouichi crossed his arms and nodded firmly.

"Liar!" Saruchi sneezed.

"Calling me a liar? I'm not a liar! I'll eff you up," said Kouichi.

"Where have I heard this before? Oh right, in my imagination," said Kouji, "Kouichi, you're so weak, you can't really fuck anyone up."

"Can't fuck anyone– what is this I don't even– that is—I'd beat any of you guys in a fight!" Kouichi stood up, holding his fists out in kickboxing position.

He was ready to go.

"Kouichi, be a dear, sit back down before you hurt yourself," said Saruchi.

"Check yourself before you wreck yourself," said Takuya wisely.

Kouichi threw a couple of punches into the air. "Is _anyone_ gonna fight me?"

"No!" everyone responded.

Kouichi was such a sweet little thing that no one really wanted to fight.

"Oh Izumi, we've got something planned for you," said Saruchi.

Takuya threw a piece of pizza crust at her.

"What the fuck was that for?" yelled Saruchi.

"You weren't supposed to tell, idiot!"

"Oh, wasn't I? Oops," she said, giggling.

"What did you plan for me?" asked Izumi curiously.

"You'll see when we get there," Saruchi says in a blasé manner.

"Oh, we're going out?"

"You're going out?" asked Takuya.

Everyone turns and stared at Takuya. Nobody was expecting that.

Izumi laughed. "Takuya, what are you talking about?"

"Izumi, you just said, you were going out with me, just now," says Takuya.

"Takuya, we're not. I just said we were going out of the house."

"Oh, I see," Takuya responded.

"Well, if you're done with your pizza, we can go out," Kouji says. "Like, now."

"Alright," Izumi says in between munches of her pizza. "Let's go."

The five clean up and go downstairs. They leave the house.

"Shot gun," Takuya called out, running to the passenger door. Izumi, Kouji, Takuya, Kouichi, and Saruchi get into Kouji's car, with Kouji on the wheel, Takuya riding in the passenger seat and the rest riding in the backseat.

"You're going to be so excited," said Saruchi.

"Now can you guys tell me where we're going?" asked Izumi.

"Sure thing. We're going…nah, I'm not telling," said Takuya.

"Whaaat?" _Tease! _Izumi thought. Izumi punched the back of the front seat with the palm of her hand. "Tell me or I'll call you a loser," she whined.

"Tell you? Ugh," Saruchi said. "But that'd be boring, right?"

"Boring?" Izumi exclaimed. "No way. That'd be the most exciting thing I've ever heard in a long time!"

"We're going to North Shibuya Academ—"

"Oh come on!"

"Kouji!"

"Did ya have to ruin it?"

"Whaaat?"

Kouji put his hands up by his head. "We set up a party at school, a surprise party. It's your coming home present, or something," he said, glancing at Takuya.

"It was my idea," said Takuya.

"I set it up, though," said Saruchi. "I'm excellent at getting people to organize."

"So… we're going back to the school?" asked Izumi.

"Yes," said Takuya.

Kouji parked in a nondescript parking lot. "We can't park in front of the school, otherwise someone'll know what's up," said Kouji quietly. "School is about a block away."

The four tumbled out of the car.

"I wish I had known about the party earlier, so I could've dressed up," said Izumi.

"Don't worry, we're not dressed up," said Takuya.

"If you're sure it's okay…" said Izumi.

"Yeah, it's no problem."

"Do you like my dress? It's Chanel," said Saruchi lightly, stopping and spinning around on her heels.

"It's gorgeous," gushed Izumi.

"Teehee! Thankyou," said Saruchi.

Inside the school everything was dark. No lights were on.

"This is scary," said Saruchi. "It feels as if there's a ghost."

"There's no one in here but us," said Kouji, firmly.

Saruchi gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing.

"So where exactly are we going?" asked Izumi.

"We're going to the basement," said Takuya, "Watch out for wires and stuff like that."

The group continued on through the main hallway, made a left, and continued on through that hallway. Then they came to a fork in the hallways. They took the left hallway, which took them east through the school.

"Is it just me, or is it getting darker?" asked Izumi.

"We're almost there," reassured Kouji.

"Good. I'm getting tired," said Izumi.

"Already?" asked Takuya. "Don't wear heels next time."

"I'm not," Izumi said dryly, "wearing heels."

"Then what's making that click-clacking sound?" asked Takuya.

"A ghost!" Saruchi screamed. Everyone stopped and looked at Saruchi wearily.

"Just kidding," Saruchi said, "I'm wearing heels."

"Figures," Takuya and Kouji said together.

The group rounded another corner and then they stopped in front of a brown, unmarked door. The sign next to the door said 'Authorized personnel only'.

"Okay, what happens in here, stays in here. If any teacher finds out about this, we're dead meat."

"Sure."

"Of course."

"'kay."

"Yes, sir!"

"All right… here… we… go…"

Takuya opened the door. There was a set of steps going down, and one could hear pounding music standing already. The group traipsed downstairs for what felt like 2 stories, and came to another door, which Takuya opened.

"Welcome to the party!" Takuya yelled over the music.

_"Let's have some fun, this beat is sick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick. Don't think too much just bust that stick. I wanna take a ride on your disco stick…"_

Izumi looked around. There place was crowded. There were at least 50 people on the dance floor which was in the center of the room. A light pink carpet, rented out for the occasion, covered the floor surrounding the dance floor. There were hot red lamps hanging from the ceiling and tall lava lamps at each corner of the pink carpeted area. There was a bar immediately to the left, where two bartenders were serving drinks. Behind the crowd there was a DJ booth where a young man with spiky hot rod red hair was mixing the beats. Everyone in the center was dancing and there were some wall flowers hanging out by the corners of the dance floor, just talking. Two huge speakers were at the DJ booth, currently transmitting "LoveGame" by Lady Gaga. There were shoes and purses and jackets heaped along the sides of the room. Last of all there was a black banner hanging from wall to wall, saying "Welcome to N.S.A., Orimoto Izumi!" in neon Japanese characters.

"This," Izumi began.

The music stopped. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you, Orimoto Izumi!" the DJ's voice carried through the speakers. The turned around, saw Izumi, and cheered.

Izumi blushed and adjusted her hair. She was the center of attention.

"C'mon, let's dance!" said Takuya suddenly. He took Izumi's hand and led her into the crowd. The music started up again, now playing a remix of Gorillaz's hit single "Feel Good".

Izumi and Takuya started to dance together. Izumi laughed when Takuya tried to show off his dancing skills to her.

"I've seen better," said Izumi, smiling. Takuya was concentrated on his dance, doing a series of kicks. His auburn brown, floppy hair swished from side to side as he bobbed his head up and down. His eyes were closed. He was feeling the music.

"Hey, Izumi!" someone shouted.

Izumi turned around. "Oh… hey!"

Takuya stopped dancing and saw JP.

"JP?" asked Takuya.

JP came up to them. "Hey guys," said JP. "What's cracka-lackin'? Izumi, want to dance?"

"She was dancing with me," said Takuya.

"Well now she's going to dance with me," said JP. "C'mon, Izumi!"

"Sorry Takuya!" said Izumi. Izumi went off with JP. Takuya watched them with fascination, then someone tapped his shoulder.

"I bet you wish that was you," said Daisuke, shouting into Takuya's ear. "Too bad she apparently belongs to JP, now."

"She doesn't belong to JP, you bastard," said Takuya.

"Sure she doesn't," Daisuke said sarcastically. "You're just jealous. She's really pretty you know, she has nice European features. Where's she from?"

"Italy, ya retard. She was born there. Her mom is Japanese and her dad is Italian." Takuya crossed his arms, looked down, then looked shiftily at Daisuke. Daisuke was grinning widely at him like an idiot. "You think she's pretty? Well I've told you she's not yours. So you better keep away from her."

"Dude! Relax! No one is doing any girlfriend stealing around here. Or cheating. I already have a girlfriend, remember?"

"So _she's_ your girlfriend now?" Takuya asked. "You couldn't get a girlfriend even if it was your mom!"

"Kari," Daisuke began, "is my girlfriend. Whether it's made up or not, that's for you to decide. Oh here she is now. Kari! Over here!"

A girl with a brunet bob turned away from her group of girlfriends and towards them. She was deathly skinny and wearing a sparkly red dress that came up to her mid-thigh. In other words, Kari was hot with a capital h.

Takuya was left alone, in the middle of the dance floor, with no one to dance with.

"How ironic," he said to himself.

Thirty minutes later, the DJ was playing a remix of the electric slide. Takuya had found Izumi and JP and was cha-chaing and hopping left and right along with the rest of the partiers. Takuya looked sidelong at Izumi. She was sweating profusely and her shoes were off, probably stuffed in a corner somewhere. Presently she took off her black vest and threw it as hard as she could towards the corner. JP and Izumi bumped hips and JP's weight sent Izumi into Takuya. Takuya caught her with the grace of a ballet dancer. '_Woah— he's got abs!,'_ thought Izumi.

"Let me up, Takuya!" Izumi said, laughing.

"Okay, okay," said Takuya. "Having fun?"

Izumi nodded. "Yeah."

"Take it back now, y'all!" Ric Silver sang.

The people in front of Takuya – the Ai twins and their boyfriends, Takuya recognized – walked backwards into them.

"Hey," said Michelle Ai, a lanky Japanese girl with blue-dyed hair. "Oh, wait a minute."

"Sorry," giggled Izumi.

Michelle's eyes lit up with recognition. "You're Izumi! Look sis, it's Izumi!"

Makoto Ai turned around. Her hair was dyed red. "Hey," she said, looking Izumi up and down.

"Are you Takuya's girlfriend now?" asked Michelle. Izumi blushed. Makoto smiled demurely and whispered to her boyfriend.

"No!" said Izumi.

"Then why're you guys holding hands?"

"He was just… helping me up…"

'_Just?'_ thought Takuya.

"You know what?" Takuya said. "Let's go get drinks. C'mon, Izumi." Takuya dragged Izumi.

"Seeya later, lovebirds!" called Michelle.

"Where're you guys going?" asked JP.

"We're just going to get drinks?" said Takuya. "Hey Izumi, how do you like Pina Colada? Shirley Temple? Shaken, or stirred?"

"Shirley Temple please. Stirred. I don't think we should leave JP just standing there."

"I don't care," he said.

Takuya led Izumi to the bar.

"So we're at 23-22. Kouji had a sprained arm, but he was serving, so we were in some deep water. We needed one ace to win the set, and there were no subs. Kouji throws the ball skywards, hits it, and it flies past us so quickly if you blinked you would've missed it. The ball lands in the other court right on the line."

"Right on the line?" asked Izumi, touching his arm, as if she can hardly believe what he is saying.

"Exactly. That's how we won 25-22," says Takuya, nodding.

"How did he manage with his arm—and his ankle, too—?"

Takuya picked up his paper cup full of Bloody Beaver, a super-sweet strawberry alcoholic drink. "Kouji's a lucky son of a gun."

She laughed. He peered at her over the top of his cup. Izumi looked back. '_Is he smoldering at me? Or am I just imagining it?_ _Oh well, might as well make use of the situation. Izumi, let's get some answers._' Izumi smiled and leaned forward on her hands until she was almost touching his nose with hers.

Takuya thought, '_Maybe this'll be my chance to tell her how much I've missed her. Now that I'm away from stupid JP and stupid Daisuke…_'

Just how stupid JP and Daisuke were, Takuya didn't elaborate.

Takuya cleared his throat.

"So…"

"Huh?" said Takuya.

"Oh, go ahead," said Izumi.

"No, you go ahead," he said, "It's only polite to let the woman go first."

"Did they teach you manners at NSA, too?" she said.

"Yes, they did, in Manners 101," said Takuya.

"Well, isn't that something?" giggled Izumi.

"You know what? I think this place is too open. Let's go somewhere else, babe." Takuya took Izumi's hand. '_Maybe I can take her upstairs._'

Izumi looked pointedly at her had. She was wondering why Takuya wanted to move. They were fine here, although maybe the music was too loud. She wondered if Takuya would take her on a tour of the city soon, wondered if he would like to take her out sometime. Like a date? He was cute enough unlike all those other boys in Italy. And he was a charming person, when he wanted to be.

The time on Takuya's watch said 11:57 PM. Takuya stood up. He was getting bored, and he wanted to go out somewhere. The party was dying down, and most of the guests had left. Except him. "Where do you want to go?"

"Oh, I don't know… take me somewhere exciting," she said. "Like around the city."

"It's too late for a tour," he said.

"We can just walk around the school then," she said.

"Okay," Takuya stood up and led Izumi to the door leading upstairs.

"Hey Takuya!" Daisuke called. Kari was right behind him, as well as Ken.

"What?" said Takuya. "Can't you see we're busy, Daisuke?"

Daisuke made an obscene gesture with his hands.

"You're gonna go to hell, Daisuke!" shouted Kari.

Daisuke grunted and looked sad as Kari admonished him.

"Now she tells him…" Takuya mumbled to himself.

"What?" said Izumi.

"Oh nothing, just talking to myself," said Takuya.

"Let me get my stuff," said Izumi.

Takuya leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

Izumi went to look for her stuff in a corner. _I can't believe we're actually going to go off together... alone upstairs..._

Izumi thought the voice in her head sounded rather like a little girl.

"Hey Izumi," said a familiar voice. It was Dylan Cassidy. Her eyes were done over in black eyeliner and asparagus-green eye-shadow, which matched her eyes perfectly. She was wearing a sheer lizard-green dress with one sleeve and strappy black espadrilles. Her hair was in a fierce bob obviously inspired by Rihanna.

"Hey, DC," said Izumi brightly.

"Having fun?" asked DC. DC looked pointedly at Izumi's lack of shoes and her disheveled hair.

"Yeah! I was just looking for my shoes. I'm about to leave, actually," said Izumi.

"With who?" asked DC, wonderingly.

"With my cousin," lied Izumi.

"Okay," said DC. "Well seeya later."

"Seeya. Hey, if you see my shoes, let me know?" asked Izumi.

"Sure," DC said. She smiled. She had a devilish smile. Izumi nodded and left. DC walked to the bar. The song "_Mad World_", by Gary Jules was playing in her head.

_'Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow, _  
_ No tomorrow, No tomorrow, _  
_ And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, _  
_ The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had...'_

Sometimes, DC just wanted to lie, but she couldn't.

_I think I'm starstruck,_ she thought.

* * *

**Of White Mice and Sakura Trees**


	7. Ruining Your Life Over One Mistake

I'd like to apologize to you all for the terrible, disgusting chapter I put out earlier. It was horrible, it was a menace, it was downright putrid. And truly, I have an explanation for that chapter. See, about a year and a half ago, the computer that held all the future chapters, character information, and plot outlines suddenly stopped working, and I haven't been able to access it since. I was so depressed by it that I hadn't written anything about _White Mice_. So when I started writing it again, I had to go off my memory. Added to the stress of a killer project and finals to study for I couldn't write a good chapter.

So, to make up for it I'm going to try to update as speedily as possible! I've written a couple of chapters in advance so I can update as often as possible.

So without further ado here is the next chapter of _White Mice_ in _much _better quality than the last.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon Frontier. Please don't sue me.

* * *

**chapter 6: fall out  
**

A photo centered against white cardstock. An ornate black frame with the kanji for fire painted onto the top piece of wood in smooth, bold strokes. A tanned boy with heavily-gelled auburn hair with not a single stray strand to be found, smiling softly at the camera, his chocolate eyes shining with a certain spark of life. He was wearing a black vest over a white dress shirt, a lava red tie, black slacks, and shiny black shoes that reflected the light. To the right, a girl with a face structure matching the boy's, including high cheekbones and a high brow, dazzling white hair that just brushed her shoulders, and blue eyes that made Izumi think of a sky on a clear day perched on top of what seemed to be a stool concealed behind the rose cocktail dress she was wearing. Lined with lava red ribbons, cinched at the waist, and flowing elegantly in all directions, the rose dress was beautiful. A big red ribbon had been sewed over her collar bone. On her feet were white knee-high socks and white Mary-Jane's. In the girl's arms was a baby boy with large, puffy cheeks, the widest, softest brown eyes, and a slicked back head of bole-brown hair. On his face was a goofy smile. He was dressed in a baby's tuxedo, even with a miniature version of the older boy's red tie. A crib, pastel blue walls, and a wooden rocking chair were behind the three children.

"Is this…?" Izumi began her question hesitantly. The chocolate eyes from the photo crinkled with a grin. Izumi could see the spark in his eyes hadn't disappeared with age.

"We were four years old." Takuya joined Izumi on the staircase and gazed at the picture intently. "Mom had just sold the last house, and she wanted something to remember it by, so we took this picture. That crib used to be mine before Mom gave it to Shinya."

That explained the color of the crib then – baby blue, to indicate a boy's. Izumi gave Takuya a look, her green eyes blinking slowly. "Where did you move from?"

"Odaiba," Takuya said fondly, picking the picture frame off its hook and taking it in his hands. "We lived there for three years."

Izumi nodded. She didn't remember where Odaiba was, but she was sure she would learn about it soon enough in history class. Just like she would learn more about her boys and what had happened to them in the years she had been gone.

"Did you like Odaiba?" asked Izumi with curiosity.

"I don't remember a thing about it." Takuya grinned wider despite himself and inspected the picture some more. "Wish I did though, because those must have been some of the best years of my life."

Izumi cocked her head to the side. "What makes you say that?"

Takuya said, without taking his eyes off the image off of his younger brother, "C'mon… no school, no responsibilities, no work, free food. Don't you wish you were a baby?"

Izumi smirked. Takuya hadn't changed; truly, he was the same lazy person she had known in the Digital World. At the silence Takuya looked up. Seeing her smirk made him crinkle his face in confusion.

"What are you grinning at?" Takuya asked.

Having nothing to say, Izumi glanced around at the other pictures hung upon the staircase's wall. The Kanbara family, at various stages of development starting with just Mr. and Mrs. Kanbara, then Takuya and Saruchi, then the entire family, grinned at her widely with the same identical grin.

"…What's upstairs?" Izumi took a step upwards toward the second floor, then stopped. She was stopped by a hand on her arm pulling her backwards.

"Where are you going?" Takuya asked.

"I want to see your room!" pouted Izumi, putting her hand over his and prying it off.

"You can't go up there," muttered Takuya.

"And why not?" asked Izumi, putting her hands on her hips and getting a glint in her eye that could only be described as 'dangerous'.

"I just got a vicious dog. I kept him up there in my room, and he bites strangers." Takuya said as he replaced the

Izumi, instantly distracted by the dog, softened her expression a bit. "I suppose that's alright then."

Takuya refastened the picture frame to the brass hook on the wall. Izumi watched him as he worked. He had steady hands, she noticed. "Sorry," Takuya said.

Now it was Izumi's turn to be confused. "What for?"

"I wish I could've let you see my room today, but if I let you up, Chiizu (A/N: Cheese in Japanese) will bite your hand off as soon as you enter the door…"

Izumi burst out laughing. _Chiizu?_

"What? …Did I say something funny?"

"No…" Izumi said, smiling. "It's nothing."

Suddenly a loud banging noise, rather like the sound of two pots being smashed together, echoed through the house. It pounded rhythmically and increased in volume. At the bottom of the stairs, Takuya's twin appeared wearing a pink apron, chef's hat, and oven mitts. In her hand she was banging a wooden spoon against an empty pot. She smiled beautifully at them.

"What's the noise for, Saruchi?" Takuya asked.

Saruchi smiled wider. "Dinner's ready, so you can come eat now! Orimoto-chan, I saved you a head seat!"

Izumi blushed. "No, no, you shouldn't have…" she started, gesturing wildly.

"But I did, so let's just eat with no arguments, 'kay?" she smiled wider and disappeared.

"Did she really cook by herself?" Izumi asked Takuya. "I should've helped… I feel bad now." Izumi didn't mention that she was quite skillfull in foreign dishes, but lacked any capacity to create Japanese food.

It was the thought that counted, after all.

"Don't be worried," Takuya reassured.

"Are you sure?" asked Izumi.

"Sure as sugar."

* * *

Izumi stepped out of the cab and closed the door. It merged into traffic and crawled away. As usual, puffs of CO2 clouded Izumi, causing her to cough violently. When she had regained clear lungs she walked across the wide sidewalk and began her ascent up the huge staircase. _Was a huge staircase like this really necessary for a school? _she thought as she walked up the first flight. Keeping her head down, she avoided groups of students chatting on the staircase, although there were considerably less voices than her first day of school given the fact that she had come a little bit later today.

"Hey Orimoto-chan!"

"Good morning, New Girl-chan!"

Izumi looked up at the sound of her name. A group of boys to her left, sitting on the staircase in a circle and smiling at her like a pack of tricky foxes… one could obviously see the two who had yelled, a girl and a boy, the only two who were standing in the middle of the group: a tall thin girl with a black hair done in a pixie cut, and a boy with dark brown hair that stood up straight from his head and fell outward, like leaves on a pineapple. They were leering dangerously at Izumi, the expressions in their eyes unreadable. By their expressions, Izumi judged they were not talking to her for purposes that she cared about in spite of how friendly their voices sounded. Izumi slowed to a walk, feeling her shoulders tense. She had had barely any sleep the night before and she was not in the mood to be played with by some rich school rumor-mongers.

"Shouldn't you be in class instead of bullying me?" Izumi said.

"Maybe we'll go to class when you answer to these rumors," said the boy.

"What rumors?"

The girl stepped forward with a small smile on her face. "Is it true that you went home with Kanbara after the party on Saturday?" She had a mousy voice, quite unsuitable for any type of singing.

Izumi frowned and stopped walking. Why would they be interested in something like that?

"Yes I did," she answered, moving her hand to her bag protectively. The standing students' eyes widened. The boys around them started snickering. Suddenly Izumi sensed that this day wasn't going to be good, no, not at all. Ignoring the rapid beating of her heart and the flush on her cheeks, she turned the heat up in her gaze.

"What's it to you?" Izumi half-snapped at the pair. The giggles of the boys subsided.

"Where'd you go?" the girl asked.

"He took me for a walk and then we went to his house."

"How long were you there?" she pressed.

"About two hours," Izumi said, still not getting the point of this little interrogation.

The girl turned to her friends and whispered something. Izumi stared at them and put her hand on her hip.

"That'll be all," snickered the boy. "Go away."

"Hmph," said Izumi, then she turned on her heel, but not before noticing one of the boys in the group pull out a white iPhone. She started again up the staircase. Engrossed in her thoughts, her eyes were only on the double doors at the top of the stairs. She failed to notice the curious stares that followed after her.

* * *

Takuya approached his locker, his eyes scanning over a piece of paper and thus, he almost ran into a girl.

"Woah… hey!" Takuya said, looking up for the first time… and seeing a girl and a boy making out on his locker. PDA wasn't allowed at NSA, but students got away with it as often as they could at lunch, in the bathrooms, and in the halls between classes. Not that Takuya would know that, of course, or have any reason to make use of the PDA times. Takuya had a rather interesting history when it came to girlfriends. After Izumi had left, he had gone through a period when he rather despised girls. He had prayed to every god of masculinity, including gods from Western cultures, and become obsessed with judo. Saruchi, horrified by her twin's display of manliness, had smacked him across the face and told their mother. Mrs. Kanbara said nothing about it, but she told Mr. Kanbara, who told Takuya to get a girlfriend or he'd stop paying for the gas for his scooter, it was such a shame he was twelve and hadn't sent White Day chocolates since kindergarten (where everyone was bloody hell required to), did he want to embarrass the family and make his mother and sister cry? So Saruchi, feeling sorry for Takuya, paired him with one of her friends, a girl named Kari Yagami. Kari had been nice. She listened to him when he talked about sports and didn't mind at all when he told her he had a crush on another girl (as it happened, she had a crush on another guy, too). He and Kari Yagami went out until 8th grade, when things got too busy. They split apart amicably. Takuya had almost forgotten about the girl with the ruby red eyes. But for now, he wasn't looking for a girlfriend, he just wanted to get to his locker.

"Excuse me," Takuya said politely, but they continued sucking face. It was rather disgusting to view, and as such he waved his paper in front of their faces.

"Excuse me," he said louder. Just then he heard a familiar voice in the hallway calling his name.

"Takuya! Takuya, my man," yelled Daisuke Motomiya, Takuya's soccer classmate and all-around main annoyance. Takuya didn't turn around.

"Excuse me," Takuya said again, to the couple making out on his locker. Again, they ignored him. Takuya sighed. Daisuke was getting closer… it wasn't like he needed his math textbook that badly, anyway… with a huff he started walking in the opposite direction of Daisuke.

"Hey! Where're you going—hey!" Takuya heard footsteps behind him that could only be Daisuke's. They got closer and closer until they were right behind him. "Guess what?" came Daisuke's voice from right behind him.

"You and Kari did it?" He fell into step alongside Daisuke and they walked together down the hall.

"No! Don't be—that's—" Daisuke spluttered sounding indignant and offended. Takuya thought he had no right to. Daisuke was highly disagreeable, or, to borrow one of Shinya's phrases, a 'sick festering bum'.

"Did someone say I did it?" Daisuke asked in a hopeful voice that made Takuya want to vomit.

"Yeah," Takuya lied.

"Who?"

Takuya said nothing. Daisuke grabbed Takuya's face.

"Tell me!"

"Er… Yamamoto."

"That bastard!" Daisuke glared at a point in front of him.

"You guys left together. The worst had to be assumed," Takuya said, shrugging as if to say, '_So goes the rumor mill._'

"We went to get_ drinks_!" he fumed.

Takuya put his hands over Daisuke's and pried Daisuke's hands off his cheeks.

"So what's up? Why'd you call for me?"

"Did you get the latest text?"

Takuya pulled out his phone, a sleek Japanese-style phone with thin black casing. The phone was decorated with miniature red dragons, and a small fire charm dangled from its antennae. Takuya wasn't paying any attention to the decorations now as he scrolled through his recent messages with a flick of his thumb. There were no new messages.

"No, I don't think so," Takuya said.

"Kanbara Takuya!" Kouji's voice said harshly. Takuya looked up in surprise. Walking – no, _charging _– at him was Kouji. In one of his arms was Izumi. Izumi looked as if she'd been crying – her purple eyeshadow was smeared across her cheeks, which used to be caked with blush but said blush was now just a stain on her blue NSA blazer. The expression on Kouji's face was one of pure fury. Takuya now noticed that everyone in the hallway was staring at them.

Takuya gulped. An angry Kouji usually foreboded a punishment for him. Feeling on edge, Takuya glanced sideways at Daisuke. The soccer player looked knowing, as if he knew what was coming. Daisuke noticed his friend's gaze and met it with a smirk. Then he put his hand up to his neck and did a horizontal slashing motion in the air that made Takuya's blood run cold.

* * *

**Of White Mice and Sakura Trees**


End file.
